Enough
by Jana Kay
Summary: Angel's thoughts after Buffy leaves him in 'Sanctuary.'


TITLE: Enough  
AUTHOR: Jana Kay  
EMAIL: jana_kay17@yahoo.com.au  
DISCLAIMER: All characters named here belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB and 20th Century Fox. No profit   
being made, I'm just playing.  
RATING: PG-13  
SPOILERS: A:tS - Sanctuary   
SUMMARY: Angel's thoughts after Buffy leaves.  
  
*****  
  
After it's over, he has the chance to think of other things he could have said to her when she dropped her bombshell.   
Things that eat away inside of him -- soul and demon alike -- like an acid. Things that part of him wants to furiously   
spit out at her just to see how she'll react, and things that other parts of him cringe at in fear and denial of.  
  
//Not that never that soul now I'm good not that never that....//  
  
But at the same time, perception changes and the mask is gone and he just wants to grab her up by her small shoulders   
and shake her....and just keep shaking her until she sees him. Really sees him.   
  
For who and what he is. For who he can never be. For all he can be.  
  
"I stamp myself down every day for you. Every day and every single night and I make myself forget just exactly who   
and what it is I am. Conveniently forget that I'm not human, and if someone drives a piece of wood no matter how   
small into my chest I'll turn to dust and ash without a single drop of blood being in sight.  
  
"And you know what? It's all for you. Since before I even met you it was always for you. You were golden and   
fresh air and sunrises and things I couldn't touch or didn't need. You were something I would have forgotten it all   
for, and for awhile I did.   
  
"You don't trust me? Well I'm sorry. Sorry that for so many years, I stamped myself down into little pieces and   
brushed them under the rug as softly as feathers, forgetting things I really remember in vivid detail and covering up   
hurts I made on myself when I got too weak and couldn't deny anymore. When I'd lay broken on the floor of the   
shower and cry because I had needed something so desperately that you would never accept me having.   
  
"What hurts, you say? You didn't see any hurts? Well of course you didn't see them Buffy. You were what I was   
trying to aspire to, how could I possibly show you the reality of the depths of darkness I live in, if you can even call it   
living? And so I covered it all up and forgot it as best I could for you. Because forgetting and blocking it out was   
worth it if for just a few moments, you would let me lose myself in you, if you would be so kind as to have me."  
  
And he didn't say that of course....but oh how he wants to. And what would she have said if he had? Would she   
have run from the station in tears? Hugged him close with her warm body and whispered promises to him that would   
undoubtedly be broken an infinite number of times before they even left the building? Walk out on him in stiff silence   
and forget she'd ever known him?   
  
But it's fruitless trying to think of the could-have-beens or should-have-beens or what-ifs. Reality is the here and   
now and what he did actually say to her, in all her perfect blonde goodness. And as weak as it feels, reality is the   
whispered 'sorry' that floats disgustingly close to the surface of his tongue that he's so willing and eager to release.   
  
And he knows that no matter how terrible it makes him feel, he's willing to go to her. Because she always was and   
still is and forever will be what he wants to become. And deep inside of him he presses back in on the sharp edges,   
folds back and pushes down the stained red memories and the anger and lust and greed and rage and blanks his   
mind so he can forget.   
  
Forget the rush of blood and life as it spills over his tongue //her blood// forget the pleasure in the pain he craves every   
second of every day and night and minute and hour //hit me again// forget the beauty of the hunt and the kill and   
the rightness of the predator chasing its prey deep into the forest at night //I woke up dreaming I was covered in your   
blood because I killed you, but even though I love you I can't help but love this too// and how delightful that the prey   
always forgets to leave the breadcrumb trail so it can never find its way out again //soulmates// so then he pounces--  
  
Pounced. Past tense. Because for her, he forgets it. And he's 'good' again, and only the evil should fear him while   
the innocent are welcome to hide between and behind and beyond the folds of his billowing cloak. And though he   
can never touch it, he'll bring sunlight into their lives. And he banishes to the very recesses of himself the voices in his   
mind telling him that that's an impossibility for him. How can it even be considered because of what he is, let alone be   
done? The thought of hopelessness and helplessness he pushes far from his frantic mind.   
  
But the thought of her blocks mutinous voices, and it controls what he does, what he says, what he is, and he parrots   
like a puppet in her presence, attached to her and her proud nose and indignant pout and changeable eyes by an invisible  
string that's even now tugging on him, wanting him to go after her and apologise, whisper his forgiveness and bite his  
lip to stop the wail from being released when he sees that this doesn't mean a happy ever after after all. It just means   
they can now be 'friends.'   
  
But to touch for just one moment what she stands for, to bask and swim and dive like a porpoise deep down into  
her sun filled depths so he can feel the goodness of redemption just the once, to allow himself to forget who he is and   
what he wants just so he can get one tiny glimpse of the salvation she can offer after all the guilt he's borne and suffered....  
  
Well in the light of day, that's enough.  
  
And in the darkness of night when he stalks the streets and tells himself he's really only walking....  
  
Well then he'll make it enough.  
  
And the next night he drives off to see her, bitterness and eagerness coating his tongue equally as murmured apologies   
whisper through his mind.   
  
//I'm so sorry I'm good now please forgive me I have a soul I'm good please forgive....please....please//  
  
It has to be enough.  
  
  
The End.  



End file.
